


Brother and Sister (Tyrant and Hero)

by Mai_Blade



Category: Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Do Not Post on Another Website, Don't copy to another site, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, I'm Bad At Titles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Siblings, Spoilers, as in this is just going over the Fable III gameplay story line
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mai_Blade/pseuds/Mai_Blade
Summary: You were brother and sister.Nothing, not even the Darkness, can change that.





	1. Happiness

**Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it. **

**~Jacques Prévert**

* * *

You were reading in the castle library when Jasper brought you the news of your older brother’s return. Your head snapped up from your book even as you tossed it aside, face beaming. 

“Logan has returned home?”

“Yes,” replied Jasper. “I believe I did just say that.”

Giving a joyful shout, you bounded out of the chair and gathered your skirts in your hands, dashing out the door and around the corner.

“My lady,” called Jasper. He sighed as your footsteps faded into the distance. “First of all, it is not ladylike to gallop. Second of all, Walter has said that Logan seems rather tired. Ah well, I suppose one should not immediately burst your bubble. You have not seen your brother for weeks after all.” 

Jasper paused, reflecting on how he would appear if anyone overhead him talking to an empty room. 

“…Perhaps I should refrain from talking to myself.”

Meanwhile, ignorant of any mishaps your brother might have suffered, you ran through the castle halls, eagerly looking forward to seeing your brother again. You spotted him near the war room and called his name, waving your hand.

“Brother!”

* * *

Logan turned and saw his sister running towards him. Happiness should have been there in his heart, for she was his only sibling, but there was very little. Instead there was a cold gloom which had festered since the death of his men in the caves in Aurora. Happiness, true happiness of any sort would be a long time coming after his losses and experience in the desert.

But, for this moment, for the younger sister who nothing of the terror he had suffered, he held out his arm towards her. Though he did not force a smile, he accepted the embrace she thrust upon him, smiling into his chest as she welcomed him home. Logan stared down at her and let her bright voice wash over him.

_Here at last was the glimmer of light that had led him from the **Darkness.**_

If not for the memory of his sister, Logan knows he would have succumbed to that evil. He would not have come home again, leaving her to wonder what had happened to him. He couldn’t do that to her, not after remembering her face and the promise he’d made to her when their Hero father had died.

Though his body was weak from travel and recovery, as the warmth of his sister proved that she was alive and next to him, Logan felt a small measure of relief. He was home, and that creature was far away in Aurora, far from the sister he held dear. They were together, and he could begin to put his nightmare behind him.

He did not smile, but his heart felt lighter, if only by a little.

(_but the blind seer comes in the night and shows him a vision_

_and the most heart-wrenching realization is that his sister will die drowning in fear_

_ **he can’t** _

_so when he wakes, the king he was is dead_

_and with a heavy heart, he knows what he must do and what he will become_

_but for Albion_

_for **her**_

_he will bear that weight or die trying_)


	2. Smile

**When you lose your smile, you lose your way in the chaos of life.**

**~Roy T. Bennett **

* * *

Logan doesn’t smile anymore.

Granted, your serious brother was hard to make smile even before Aurora, but at least back then you could sense when he was amused, or even that he was indulging you by giving you his attention if only for a short while. But now?

You can’t recall when you first noticed it, but ever since your brother returned from his voyage across the sea he has stopped smiling completely. You watched him (usually from afar because his temper had changed drastically and not for the better), and you could see that he had become humorless. Logan’s presence was dark and heavy, his face set in either a scowl or cold indifference. Both Jasper and Walter now give you daily advice on when to avoid your brother when he’s in a temper, and after the first few times of ignoring their advice only to be coldly or even harshly rebuffed by your brother, you find yourself heeding them more often than not.

After all, you don’t want to lose your smile too.


	3. Don't Go

**Better a thousand times careful than once dead. **

**~Proverb**

* * *

Your house arrest comes as a shock. One day, leaving just isn’t allowed, by order of the King. Oh, _other_ people can come and go, some more easily than others, but you? No, as princess, suddenly you weren’t permitted to leave the castle grounds, nor were you allowed to go out into the front courtyard if the gates were open.

The first time you learn of this is less than a fortnight after Logan’s return.

“I’m going down to Bowerstone Market,” you announced to your brother as you peered into the war room from the doors which had been left unlocked.

Logan gave you his full attention at that declaration. “You are not.”

Startled, you did a double-take. “What?”

“You are not going down to Bowerstone Market,” repeated Logan, stepping around the large map of Albion. He stared coldly at you, in a manner which you were slowly and uncomfortably becoming more familiar with since his homecoming. He informed you, “You are to not leave the castle grounds.”

You glared at him, incensed enough to push past your discomfort. “Why?”

It’s a fair question. You didn’t often go out at all, but you still sometimes went. Always with guards and a chaperone of course, so why can’t you go now when you won’t be alone?

“Do not question me,” replied Logan. He turned his back to you. “The guards have already been informed to not allow you off the castle grounds. The town guards have been ordered to return you to the castle should they see you. You are not leaving this castle.”

Your glare intensified as you put your hands on your hips. “_Why?_”

Not even father ever went this far when you were a _child_. Although, back then you hadn’t wanted for the outside world at all, not when father, mother and brother all occupied the castle with you.

Logan turned back to you. Seeing your defiant stance, he seemed to decide on an alternate approach. Stepping closer to you he brought his gloved hand up to your cheek, tracing his fingers along the curve of your face. Mildly taken aback by this tactic and surprised out of your anger, you blinked up at your brother.

“Albion is changing,” Logan said, an incomprehensive statement that meant nothing to you. His eyes drifted past your form and he stared at something only he could see (_remembering the cold dread that had clutched his entire being out there in the dead sands and dark caves of Aurora, the burden of knowing that he had to prepare the kingdom to fight a hopeless battle)_.

Your hand reached up and the tips of your fingers touched the back of his hand, concerned by his thousand-yard stare. 

“Brother?”

* * *

His eyes focused on her again. 

_I have an entire country to prepare, a people to try and save._

His eyes—he has seen their reflection in a mirror and knows they are hard and cold—catch hers, and he sees the softness in the them, the life that burns brightly inside of her. 

_But in the whole of this world, in all the kingdoms that exist and all the people who live, I have only one sister. _

Pulling his hand away, he remained stern and unmoving.

“You are not leaving this castle.”

She calls him terrible and leaves in a huff, clumping her skirt in clenched hands.

_Oh, sister. What that your world could remain so safe and small that this restriction would always be your only understanding of how ‘terrible’ I can be._


	4. Frustrated

**Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them. **

**~Marcel Proust**

* * *

Something was wrong with Logan. 

Even you were starting to sense that, and you’re usually not the quickest to notice things. The air around the castle is heavy with disgruntled murmurs from the staff, especially those who had relatives in the town below the castle. However, you don’t know why exactly. The servants don’t talk if you are near, and Elliot won’t answer your questions what you ask if he knows anything. Even Walter and Jasper seem to be trying to keep something from you.

As for your brother, you haven’t seen him for very long at any time since you both spoke about your being forbidden to leave the castle, and he won’t spare you the time to answer your questions either. He just calls you a child and tells you to return to your studies or to your ‘frivolities’, which you think is his ways of saying ‘go play’.

“I don’t understand, Jasper,” you confided one evening from where you were sitting up but under the covers, ready for your nightly rest. Your faithful dog, sensing your mood, whined beside you. You absentmindedly scratched behind his ears. “What has happened to my brother? He used to be so nice to me, and he always used to tell me what was going on in the kingdom if I ever cared to ask. He doesn’t do that anymore and he even forbade me the guards from letting me into the throne room or hall leading to the war room.”

You turned your head to rest on your knees and sighed. “There isn’t one day where the servants stop talking when I come near or where Logan doesn’t exclude me from something. Jasper… did I do something wrong?”

Jasper finished pulling the curtains over the last window shut. Calmly, he turned to you and walked closer to your bed. “I do not believe that is anything you ‘did’, princess. King Logan has been enacting… changes, one could say, to the way he used to have things done. At the risk of sounding cliché and unoriginal, people change.”

You frowned, flopping backwards into bed and pulling the covers over the rest of your body. “That doesn’t help, Jasper.”

It really didn’t. His answer just hinted that maybe your brother was doing something to upset people, hence why the servants were being careful about talking around you. After all, if you overheard and went running to Logan to tattle… Wait, would you tattle? Maybe, depending on what they were talking about. There’s something called treason, right?

“Perhaps not,” Jasper said, heading for the door. “But without evidence there is only conjecture.” He turned and nodded as he pulled the doors shut. “Goodnight, princess. Sleep well.”

You rolled over on your side as the door shut. Jasper was right, of course. This wasn’t the first time Logan had undergone a change in personality. The first time was when Father died, but you understood that better now. After all, he had gone from prince to king, and from not just your brother but also to your legal guardian. Under that pressure, you could understand why he was different than from how he was before the death of your last remaining parent. 

However, you couldn’t understand him at all right now. He was so cold and distant. Mean, really, and even to you! He never raised his voice, but somehow the cold winter in his voice hurt more than heat would have. What happened to him? Why was he being like that?

…Why was he turning his back on you?


	5. Story

**Stories you read when you're the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called. Sometimes you'll forget precisely what happened, but if a story touches you it will stay with you, haunting the places in your mind that you rarely ever visit.**

**~Neil Gaiman, M Is for Magic **

* * *

Father was away from Albion on a political visit to a neighboring kingdom. The castle, which was much too large for a child of your age and small stature, always seemed so empty when he was gone. It was one thing to have father present in the castle but busy with his work, and another thing to have him go away. You don’t remember mother too well, and she is already resting forever. You know that there are still people in the castle, servants, and Jasper and usually even your brother, but father’s absence was almost a palpable ache that was only soothed when he returned.

(_the world is at its scariest whenever father is away_)

Logan is always busy studying and training to become king, to be ready to take over the throne when father passed or stepped down, but whenever father was away, he would usually find the time to tell you a story. It was one of the few good points of father’s absence. Logan, for all his complaining about his childish sister, took the time to spoil you a little when you were deeply unhappy or sad.

He took up space on the edge of your bed, gazing down at you as you peered up at him from where you were snuggled under the covers, small hands clutching the ends. He smiled slightly and reached out towards you.

Gently tugging your night cap over your forehead, he asked you, “What sort of story would you like to hear tonight?”

“A story about a Hero,” you replied immediately, excited at the prospect as you shoved your nightcap back, slightly annoyed by the itchiness of it on your forehead. You chirped, “Tell me a story about father!”

Amusement crossed his face. “Father again? What about another Hero?”

You cocked your head, scrunching your nose at your brother in confusion. “Another Hero?”

Logan chuckled. Apparently you hadn’t registered father’s words when he told tales of gathering the Heroes of Skill, Will and Strength. He shook his head slightly, deciding it would be too troublesome to try explaining that fact to a small child who worshipped her father as the greatest Hero ever to live. 

“All right then, a story about father it shall be.”


	6. Empty Threat

**Promises are like babies: easy to make, hard to deliver.**

**~Author Unknown**

* * *

You threw open the doors to the War Room, exclaiming angrily. “Logan!”

Logan, slightly irritated by your sudden appearance, looked up from where he was seated before piles of papers. “Yes?”

He could have but didn’t say, _‘What is it now?’_

Honestly speaking, you were getting to be somewhat of a problem and had been ever since the announcement of your house arrest. If you, his foolish sister, continued getting in his way then he just might lock you away in one of the castle towers.

(_he wouldn’t, but sometimes the temptation is strong, especially when he sees you with your male ‘friend’_)

Anger bubbled up in your words. “Is it true that you’ve put _Reaver_ in charge of Bowerstone Industrial?”

Father had told you all about Reaver, that he was the Hero of Skill, but also a man in contract with the Shadow Court, and a dangerous, evil man whom you should never trust. Father had stressed that you must _never_ let down your guard with Reaver. Royalty or fellow Hero, none of that mattered to Reaver. All that mattered to him were his own interests. The people of Albion held no place in that man’s cold heart. Surely Logan had been told the same things, so _why?_

Logan’s eyebrow rose slightly before lowering. That you would be so vocal in protest was mildly surprising but there wasn’t anything you could do about his decisions. 

(_did you really believe that he hadn’t agonized over his decision, that he didn’t remember father’s warnings?_)

“It is none of your concern if I have, sister.”

You trembled with rage. “Fire him, or, or…!”

Logan stared you dead in the eye. “Or what?”

Your hands flexed at your sides as you realized that you had nothing. You had no advantage over Logan, no means of bargaining or blackmailing. Desperately, you raked your mind for something, anything. 

“Or… or I’ll never speak to you again!”

Logan stared, unimpressed. He knew you would _never_ be able to keep that threat. That was like asking the sun to rise from the west.

And you both knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third update on my updating spree for my birthday! How many can I get before midnight? In between all the distractions like work and Youtube videos, anyway.
> 
> June 6 2020 EDIT: Did a little re-writing for this chapter.


	7. Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAVE YOU HEARD???
> 
> I AM SO HYPED FOR THE NEW FABLE GAME. I don't know when it's coming. I'm just glad it's confirmed, you know?

**A flower's appeal is in its contradictions - so delicate in form yet strong in fragrance, so small in size yet big in beauty, so short in life yet long on effect.**

**~Terri Guillemets**

* * *

Before that Monster had entered his life, Logan had always secretly thought of you as being like a flower, if only as an older brother's fancy. After all, as his only sister, you were soft and sweet in his eyes. Your youth only reinforced that image in his mind, regardless of your growing tomboy tendencies.

You had been there to tell him goodbye at the castle door before he left on his journey, wearing a dress and clearly putting on a brave face. Walter had been there by your side, and he had entrusted you to the old solider. His Royal Advisor had reassured him that he would look after the princess, and with a nod, he had left you behind.

_For your safety_, he had explained in reply to your repeated request to go with him. While normally you could get him to bend, he was unmoving on this one thing.

Weeks later, as he desperately struggled in that Monster’s deathly grip, a memory—your face—flashed to the forefront of his mind as its eldritch claw squeezed his head.

(_you’d looked on the verge of tears_

_what face would you make if he never came home?_)

He roared, one hand clawing at the That Monster’s grip and the other grabbing the suddenly remembered pistol at his side. Loud, sharp shots rang out, and then he was free, dropped to his feet where he staggered and nearly fell face first into the cold sands of the desert.

An unnatural darkness had long since settled over this new land, and as far as he could tell, the survivors from the sunk ship had all been lost save for himself. Eerie moonlight and fog made the sand dunes shimmer sickeningly. He blanched as an abnormal voice began taunting him, telling him that he was lost, that he would never leave the sands alive.

He choked on nothing, shaking as he climbed to his feet. His heart hammered in his chest, as though it was determined to escape, but he still stood up and faced the desert, breathing hard and already weary down to his bones. It would be easy, so _easy_, to turn his pistol on himself, to make this terror end on his terms.

But he can’t do that.

(_trying to smile, holding back tears and words, probably another plea to stay, or take you with him_)

Maybe he was going to die out here. Maybe his struggles would be futile. He knows he doesn’t have his father’s Hero blood. He doesn’t have the same strength father did. He’s just a man.

The Monster speaks, crooning cruel threats from beyond sight.

And his teeth grit together when it promises to _hurt you_.

A vision appears before him, stealing the breath from his lungs. It is you, sitting in a familiar chair, reading a book. You look up—he staggers forward at the sight of your smile—and then you scream, falling back as dark creatures fall upon you.

He screams, and the vision fades.

Fear takes root in his heart, but the Monster’s attempts to cow him have failed. It should never have brought you up. His courage would have failed him in these sands. He probably would have laid down to die, or finish his earlier thought and turn his pistol on himself.

(_you are all he has left_)

He roars, wordless.

Anguished.

But he moves his feet, walks on into the night. It continues tormenting him with words and visions, dark promises and his worst fears.

Yet, he keeps moving until he no longer can, and even then he clings to consciousness.

He is rewarded with distant voices, and the knowledge that people have seen him. His free hand claws weakly into the sand of this forsaken land, and your name his last desperate thought.

(_burning into his soul is a truth—a flower cannot bloom in the darkness_)

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see if I can finally finish off this drabble collection.
> 
> Fable 3 should have been longer, and Logan should have had a bigger part. Just sayin'.


End file.
